Part 3: Encounters at Falaise - Mm Bazelaire
by Queen's Bishop
Summary: The battlefield is not the only place where danger might be lurking.


30

_No infringement on the rights of the owners of "Combat!" is intended. This story is for the enjoyment of "Combat!" fans only, not for any monetary profit by the author._

_Thanks to JML for proofreading and to Susan Rodriguez for beta reading._

**Encounters at Falaise**

**Part 3: Mm. Bazelaire **

**by: Queen's Bishop**

**[] Indicates French or German is being spoken. The language depends on the character **

**and to whom s/he is speaking.**

**()()()() Denotes time has passed or the focus of the story has shifted **

**to a different location or character.**

Summary of **Part 2: Enemies **–While searching for stragglers from the battle for Falaise, Hanley was wounded. He and a Kraut officer, Lt. Rotberg, talked about their lives as they waited to die.

()()()()()()()()()()

"That," Kirby said as he shed his pack and leaned the BAR against a partial wall of the damaged church where the squad was currently billeted, "had to be the longest reconnaissance patrol of the war. An' what do we got to show for it?" He collapsed onto a pew and then answered his own question. "Nothin', that's what we got…Nothin' but achin' dogs an' empty bellies!"

"Yeah, Sarge, are we gonna get a hot meal?" Littlejohn asked as he lowered his large frame onto another pew.

Doc and the sergeant righted two pews that were overturned. "I'll find out when I check in with the lieutenant," Saunders replied as he took off his pack and stowed it beneath one of those benches. "In the meantime, just.." He made a weary, half-hearted gesture, indicating the pews.

He didn't need to say anything else. All of the men were exhausted and, with little conversation, each staked out the bench where he was going to rest his tired body. The sergeant picked up his Thompson and walked out the archway where a door used to hang.

The CP was in the two-room school house of one of the many little villages that surrounded Falaise. It, like all of the other buildings in the town, had suffered damage, first from the artillery shelling and then from the house to house fighting between Second Platoon and the Krauts which had taken place two days earlier. Fortunately, all of the civilians had previously fled. But, unfortunately, there wasn't much left for them to return to.

Leonard, the recently commissioned 2nd Lieutenant who was filling in for Hanley as he recuperated in a London hospital, motioned Saunders to sit down. He was listening intently to the speaker on the other end of the radio. With a sigh, the NCO sat slouched on the edge of a school desk, waiting for the lieutenant to finish up and hoping the call wasn't about another mission for his squad.

At last, Leonard signed off and turned his attention to the sergeant. "How did it go?" he asked with an earnestness that reflected his newly minted status.

"Well, to quote Kirby…"

The young officer groaned. He had only been with the platoon for four days and already he knew who the complainers were.

"…that had to be the longest reconnaissance patrol of the war an' we don't have anything to show for it…" Saunders stood and spread his map out on the teacher's desk. He traced the route the squad had taken as he said, "It looks like the Krauts have pulled out of this these two sectors. We didn't run into any patrols or see any signs of recent activity. We checked all the farms we came across, but aside from a few chickens, they were deserted."

"Well, you'll be happy to know that S-2 agrees with your assessment."

If Hanley had been there, he would have heard the sergeant's opinion of S-2. But, since he wasn't, Saunders refrained and instead responded, "What now, Lieutenant?"

"That was Cpt. Jampel I was just talking to. He said to sit tight and wait. Charlie and Baker Companies are still heavily engaged. He doesn't think we'll be moving up for at least another two days, so relax."

"Good. We can use a break. Any chance we can get a hot meal tonight?" Saunders asked although he knew what the response would be.

Leonard looked at his watch. "I'll call the kitchen and ask them to send up some hot food in, say thirty minutes. Would that be alright?"

Saunders hid a smile. He wondered how that was going to be received by the mess sergeant and how long it would take before Leonard learned that not every request, grumble or complaint could, or should, be responded to. "I'll let any of the men who are still awake know," he said as he exited the school house.

Thirty-five minutes later, a jeep arrived carrying hot food. Only Littlejohn and Porter, a replacement so skinny that a light wind might blow him over, were sitting outside the church waiting for it. Still, those two packed away enough to justify the special delivery.

The next day passed slowly and quietly. Another jeep arrived bringing breakfast, and this time all of First Squad, including Littlejohn and Porter, turned out to devour everything the cooks had sent up. Besides the usual attention to their weapons, there was time to do laundry, write letters home and take an afternoon nap.

Which was exactly what Saunders was doing, although there was an open book lying on his chest where it had fallen as he dozed off, when Brockmeyer came looking for him.

"Sarge, Lt. Leonard wants to see ya," the corporal said, loudly enough for everyone in the quiet church to hear.

The book, which had been precariously balanced, fell to the floor as the sergeant yawned and stretched.

"Brockmeyer, why don't ya turn around, go outside an' drop dead!" the BAR man said from the pew where he was lying.

"'Cause, Kirby, that would give ya too much pleasure an' makin' you happy ain't my job."

"An' just what, exactly, is your job? I don't ever see ya doin' nothin' but harassin' us poor soldiers what's doin' all the fightin'."

"Well, for once you're right, 'cause that, exactly, is my job."

"Kirby, shut up. Brockmeyer, tell the lieutenant I'll be right there," Saunders said as he stood, stretched again, and looked around for his boots.

The sergeant walked into the CP to find Leonard bent over a map.

"How is your squad doing?" the lieutenant asked with a note of real concern in his voice.

Saunders shook his head. The lieutenant still didn't realize that how the squad was doing didn't matter; on the front line, getting the mission done was the only thing that mattered. "Well rested and well fed, Sir."

"Good. Take a look at this map. The Krauts have been destroying bridges all along the river, trying to slow down our advance. There's one here," the lieutenant said as he indicated the location on the map, "that's still standing. The day after tomorrow the captain wants us to capture and hold it."

"Why haven't the Krauts blown up that one yet?"

"S-2 thinks it was the only bridge in the area that could handle their armor, and there's still that fighting going on a little south of us."

"So it's their escape route. Alright, what do you want us to do?"

"Locate their outposts in this region of Dog sector," Leonard said as he again pointed to the map. "We'll need to take those out if we're going to hold the bridge. Don't engage unless you have to. We haven't shown any interest in this area yet, so we want to maintain the element of surprise."

"Right, Lieutenant. When do we leave?" Saunders asked as he folded the map and put it in the breast pocket of his shirt.

"First light. It should be just a quick in and out."

The sergeant nodded. Leonard was only repeating what he had been told, but Saunders knew from experience that reconnaissance patrols were seldom that easy.

()()()()()()()()()()

They waded across the river that marked the boundary of Dog sector and began the task of trying to determine the forward Kraut positions. It was a slow and dangerous game of hide-and-seek; get close enough to accurately locate the outposts, but don't get caught while doing it.

Saunders studied the map. He had marked the positions of the four OPs they had already found and now he thought a likely location for the next one was the small hill they were approaching.

At the top of the hill was a rocky outcropping from which there would be a good view of the immediate area. But, as the sergeant scanned it with his binoculars, he saw no sign of activity. He passed the glasses to the Cajun who also saw nothing. Saunders waved his men forward and the squad cautiously moved toward the suspected position. Once they reached the base of the hill, the NCO and the scout carefully began making their way up the slope while the rest of the men waited, ready to provide cover fire should it be needed.

They crawled forward, stopped and listened, but all was quiet. Again, they moved forward, and again and again, but with the same results. At last, Saunders pulled out his field glasses and scanned the top of the rock formation. There were a few scraggly trees, but no sign of any Krauts. The two men descended the hill to rejoin the rest of the squad.

Everyone looked expectantly at them when they returned, but the Cajun shook his head.

"Where to now, Sarge?" Littlejohn asked.

Once more, the sergeant pulled out his map and studied it. They had almost reached the end of Dog sector. Maybe the next OP fell in Charlie. "We'll continue looking a little more, then head for home," he told his men. He signaled the scout to begin circling around the base of the rise.

Beneath the outcropping, the Krauts waited in silence. Although their field of vision was more restricted than it would have been on top, their group leader had thought that by staying beneath the ledge, they were better hidden. The soldier on duty continued to scan the terrain which spread out before him, but he hadn't seen the arrival of the squad or the ascent of the two Americans. However, once they started moving around the base of the rise, they came into view. He picked up a pebble and tossed it at the other four soldiers who manned the OP.

One of their first shots hit Saunders in the left shoulder and he fell. The other squad members immediately dropped to the ground. Caje crawled over to the sergeant's side and provided some rapid cover fire as the NCO dragged himself behind a log. Even though the rest of the squad had opened up, they were firing blind. The OP was too well camouflaged and the Krauts offered no easy targets. While they blanketed the area where the shots were coming from, their efforts weren't doing much to diminish the spray from the machine gun or the rifle fire.

The Cajun had been in tough spots before and as he quickly assessed the situation, he knew their position wasn't good. "DOC!...DOC!" he yelled.

The medic crawled forward to where Caje and Saunders were lying. The scout had picked up the sergeant's Tommy gun and pulled the spare magazines from inside his field jacket.

"Get de Sarge out of here. If we can't flank dem, we'll have to fall back. We'll give you as much time and cover as we can."

Doc and Caje's eyes locked for just a moment before the scout broke the contact to return to firing the Thompson. But, it was long enough for the medic to see that the Cajun was afraid, maybe not for himself, but definitely for the fate of the rest of the squad.

Saunders draped his right arm over Doc's shoulder and the two men began crawling away, with Doc pulling and dragging the sergeant as much as he was moving under his own power. Although some of the shots hit near them, the Krauts were concentrating their fire on the men who were shooting back.

Finally, they reached a dip and rolled down it. The medic decided this was as good a spot as they were going to find to try to make their escape. He pulled Saunders to his feet and, with the sergeant's arm once again over his shoulder, the two of them crouched low and headed out. Doc didn't pay attention to where they were going. His only concern was to get the wounded man away from the shooting.

As soon as the medic had gotten Saunders safely away, Caje yelled, "NELSON! ALLEN!" He signaled them to begin moving to the right with him to try and flank the Kraut position. Kirby, Littlejohn and Porter knew it was their job to continue laying down heavy cover fire so the Germans wouldn't realize the other three men had slipped away.

Meanwhile, the Kraut group leader signaled two of his riflemen to try to flank the Americans. They eased out of their position and began stealthily moving to their left, not knowing they were on a trajectory that would intersect with the three Americans.

Caje and Billy continued to circle the OP. Allen, the most recent addition to the squad, lagged behind, scared and unsure of what he should be doing. More than once the Cajun had to turn and signal him to move up. The two experienced soldiers were just about to begin working their way back toward the Krauts when the command, "HALT! HÄNDE HOCH!" froze them in place.

Nelson and the scout dropped their weapons, raised their hands and turned around to face their captors. The two Germans stood, with their rifles raised, about twenty yards away. One of them motioned with his weapon for the prisoners to begin walking. Over the shorter Kraut's shoulder, Billy saw Allen suddenly appear. The green soldier was only ten yards behind the Germans and he had a grenade in his hand, ready to throw.

"NO!" Nelson shouted as he threw himself at Caje, sending both of them to the ground.

The Krauts wheeled around and shot Allen. As he fell, the grenade dropped from his hand and the shrapnel and concussive force of the explosion killed the two Germans.

For a brief moment, the firing stopped and all was quiet. Both sides tried to figure out the meaning of the blast. Although Kirby and Littlejohn had expected Caje and Billy to be throwing grenades, the location of the noise told them that something had gone terribly wrong. Porter looked at the two veteran soldiers, waiting for them to say something, to tell him what to do.

Littlejohn and Kirby looked at each other. The Sarge was hit. God only knew what had happened to Caje, Billy and Allen.

The Krauts still in the OP opened up again. Kirby returned fire, providing cover as Littlejohn tried to move toward where they had heard the explosion, but he didn't make it very far. The firing from the OP was too intense. He signaled Porter to move back the way they had come. Once they passed the BAR man, the big private turned and began firing to cover Kirby's retreat.

Leapfrogging each other, they were almost out of the visual range of the OP when Kirby was hit in the side and he went down. Littlejohn returned to get him.

"GO…GO!" the BAR man shouted.

Littlejohn ignored him, picked up the smaller man and threw him over his shoulder. He began his lumbering run back toward the river with Porter stumbling behind him.

The three remaining Krauts stopped firing. They had beaten back the assault and now the Americans were beyond their field of vision. The group leader looked at his two remaining comrades as he tried to decide if he should abandon the OP to pursue the Americans. Since his orders hadn't included this situation, staying put seemed to be the best option.

[Rudy, head for the village. Report what has happened to Cpt. Bauer. Let him know that two enemy soldiers are headed his way and one of them is wounded.]

[Do you want me to try to find Wilhelm and Rolf?]

[If they were still alive, we would have heard them firing their rifles,] the group leader replied as he shook his head. [Make it back to the captain as quickly as you can.]

Rudy nodded and left the OP, heading in the same general direction as Doc and Saunders. He passed close enough to the scene of the grenade explosion to see the bloody corpses of his comrades and that of the dead American. He didn't see the other two enemy soldiers.

Nelson had dragged the unconscious scout into the underbrush and from there he watched the Kraut pass by.

()()()()()()()()()()

Doc stopped and eased Saunders down so he was sitting against a tree. It had been a while since they had heard any shooting. As he opened his rucksack, the medic looked anxiously around, hoping to see the other members of the squad. He pulled the sergeant's field jacket and shirt aside, sprinkled sulfa powder on the wound and pressed a bandage hard against it.

Saunders groaned, then asked, "How's it look, Doc?"

The medic didn't respond to the question. The wound looked like so many others he had seen, torn bloody flesh with the risk of shock and infection. If the sergeant had asked about another wounded soldier in the squad, the medic would have responded that the soldier needed a doctor and a hospital. But, given their current situation, there wasn't much point in saying that to Saunders, so instead he asked, "You want some morphine?"

"No. We'll wait here until the rest of the squad catches up."

The medic nodded and finished tying off the bandage. Saunders closed his eyes as Doc checked his watch. He wondered how long they should wait; how long the sergeant could wait.

()()()()()()()()()()

"Hey, put me down, ya big moose. All the blood's runnin' to my head," Kirby said.

Littlejohn slowed down and listened. Aside from the complaining of the BAR man, everything was quiet. "Well, there's plenty of room for it, because your brain isn't taking up much space," he said as he knelt down and gently rolled Kirby off his shoulder to the ground. "Porter, take the BAR and keep watch."

The green soldier stood, seemingly frozen in place, looking down at the two men.

Kirby sat up half-way and pulled the strap of the BAR over his head. "Here, kid, take it!" he said as he thrust the weapon toward the scared young soldier. Still, Porter didn't move.

Littlejohn stood to his full height, towering over the replacement. "Either take the BAR an' stand guard, or dress this wound!" he said sharply.

"Yes, Sir!" Porter said as he grabbed the weapon and went about thirty yards back the way they had come.

The big private knelt back down and began ministering to his wounded comrade. As he pulled to tie the ends of the bandage, Kirby squirmed.

"Hey, that's too tight! For cryin' out loud, I gotta be able to breathe," the BAR man snapped.

Littlejohn sighed. "It's got to be tight to stop the bleeding. Now just hold still."

Porter listened to the quiet back-and-forth between the two men. He couldn't figure it out. Since he joined Second Platoon, those two had done nothing but bicker. And yet, when Kirby was hit, Littlejohn risked getting shot himself to go back and get him. Besides being too scared to hardly move, the young soldier didn't know if he would have done that for anyone, except maybe his own brother.

"Okay, that should hold it for a while. Let's try to make it back to the river. Do you want me to throw you over my shoulder again or do you want to lean on Porter?" Littlejohn asked.

"I'll lean on the kid," Kirby responded. "I ain't no sacka potatas, ya know."

The big private reached down to pull the smaller man up, but before Kirby grabbed his arm he said, "I don't think the rest of 'em made it."

"Kirby, we don't know that," Littlejohn responded. But, even as he said it, he feared the worst. He quietly called to the replacement, "Porter, c'mon. We're heading home."

()()()()()()()()()()

Caje gave a groan as he opened his eyes. He blinked several times before propping himself up on one elbow and feeling the back of his head with his free hand.

"You okay?" a concerned Billy asked. "I think you hit your head when I fell on you."

Caje looked at the blood on his fingers. "I dink so, too. But, danks. How about you?"

"I'm okay. Allen's dead."

"Stupid kid. What was he trying to do? What about Kirby, Littlejohn and Porter?"

Billy shook his head. "I don't know. The shooting stopped a while ago. One Kraut went by but other than that, it's been quiet."

"Any sign of Doc or Saunders?"

Again, Nelson shook his head. "Caje, what do you think we should do?"

The scout sat up, letting out a sigh of resignation. "Head for de river. If any of dem made it, dat's where dey'd go."

Together, the two men began to slowly make their way toward home.

()()()()()()()()()()

Doc checked his watch again. It had been over an hour since he and the sergeant had stopped. An hour and none of the other squad members had made it to where they waited.

'If they were coming, they should've been there by now,' he thought.

He checked the bandage on Saunders' shoulder. The bleeding had stopped for the moment, but he knew as soon as the NCO moved, it would start in again.

The sergeant looked at him as if he had been thinking the same thing. "Doc, we should try to make it back to our lines," he said. "Head for the river."

()()()()()()()()()()

The German soldier, Pvt. Rudy Stockhausen, stood at attention as he gave his report. Cpt. Bauer listened and, after notifying his superior, he called for one of the sergeants under his command.

[Sgt. Albrecht, send three men back to outpost number five. Then assemble two squads. You will lead one and search all of the farms south of the main road for two Americans, one of whom is wounded. I will take the rest of the men and search the farms to the north. Pvt. Stockhausen, keep an eye on Dr. Maugauge. If anyone comes looking for him, follow them.]

()()()()()()()()()()

Doc stopped and looked around. 'Head back to the river,' he thought. 'Well, we should be there by now.'

He debated what to do, but he knew his problem stemmed from that one fateful moment. When he pulled Saunders away from the skirmish, he had gotten turned around and since then he hadn't known where the river was. And, by this time, he didn't think the sergeant would know either. In the end, he decided he didn't have any choice but to keep going in the direction they had been heading and hope they reached either the river or some trustworthy civilians.

Eventually they came to a small farm. The medic knew he should circle around, peek in the windows, and make sure there were no Krauts about. However, Saunders was leaning heavily against him and, if there were any Germans, what was he going to do? The sergeant couldn't go much further. Doc struggled to get him up to the door.

The medic knocked, but there was no immediate response, so he knocked again, this time longer and harder. Finally, the door opened. A young woman stood before them. The expression on her face turned from fear to surprise to defiance in an instant.

Doc stared at her. He thought, 'She's not what I'd call a natural beauty, but there's something appealing about her. No, that's the wrong word. It makes her sound wholesome, and she's definitely not wholesome. Alluring…that's better. There's definitely something alluring about her.'

He would have continued to gawk at her, something he was sure she was used to, if Saunders hadn't shifted his weight and weakly said, "Doc…"

That roused the medic from his trance. "Ah'm sorry to bother you, ma'am. We mean y'all no harm. We're Americans, and as you can see, the sergeant is wounded…"

She hesitated, trying to decide what to do, whether she should even talk to them in English. But, thinking that might lead to dangerous consequences, she said, [NO…go away…I cannot help you…go away,] and made shooing motions with her hands.

She was about to close the door, but Doc put his foot against it, and then his shoulder. He half- dragged Saunders into the house. Except for a baby on the rug near a rocking chair, there was nobody else in the dwelling. The curtain that separated the nook used as a bedroom from the main room was open and the medic headed for it. He eased the sergeant down onto the edge of the bed and unfastened his web belt, letting it drop to the floor, along with both of their helmets.

The woman, in the meantime, went to the baby and picked him up, cooing and comforting the infant. She carried him to the open bedroom and watched while the medic got the field jacket and shirt off the wounded man and cut off his undershirt before helping him to lie back onto the bed.

Doc picked up Saunders' feet and swung them over onto the duvet. When the woman gasped, the medic looked at her and then at the sergeant's muddy boots. He would have taken the boots off, but he needed to tend to the NCO's bloody wound first. Without even asking, he gave the sergeant a shot of morphine.

That was when she saw it, the holster holding the American's pistol, laying on the floor. She turned and took the baby back into the living room and set him down on the rug. When she returned, she calmly moved to the foot of the bed and took off the wounded man's boots. She set them under the chair in the corner. The medic barely looked to see what she was doing, so she picked up the bloody clothing.

[I will wash the blood out,] she said.

Doc looked briefly at the clothes in her hands, and, guessing her intent, responded, "Thank you, ma'am." He went back to tending to the NCO.

She stooped and picked up the web belt. As she turned to set it on the seat of the chair, she opened the snap that held the pistol in place and slid it out of the holster, concealing the weapon among the bloody clothes. The woman carefully set the belt down so the empty holster wasn't visible. But, to be sure, she picked up the helmets and laid them on top of the belt.

Now, she was no longer defenseless. She would make them leave. The wounded man groaned, and she could hear the other one, the one who had the red cross on the brassard on his arm, talking quietly to him. After watching for a moment, she decided they could stay the night, but as soon as it was light, she would make them go.

Once she had reached that conclusion, she needed to hide the pistol until morning. She returned to the main room and calmly looked around. Her eyes fell on her sewing basket. It was sitting on the little stand by the rocking chair where she had been working when the Americans arrived. The nightgown she was making for the baby still lay in the chair. She lifted the basket's lid and put the pistol in, then covered it with the little shirt.

With a sigh of relief, she went to the sink and filled the basin with cold well water. As she picked up the shirt to scrub out the blood, she felt something in the breast pocket. She looked behind her to be sure the American wasn't watching before reaching in and withdrawing a packet of cigarettes, a lighter, and a folded piece of paper. She turned the paper over several times trying to determine what it was. It might be a map…it might be important, something she could use…but it was too blood-soaked to read. Perhaps when it dried…

When Doc finished doing what he could for Saunders, he left the sergeant in the bedroom and went to talk with the woman.

"Ma'am…"

She jumped. She hadn't heard the man come up behind her.

"Sorry, Ah didn't mean to startle you." Doc saw the map in her hands and the cigarettes and lighter by the side of the sink. "Thanks for saving those," he said as he gently took the paper from her and picked up the other items. "Ma'am, is there a doctor in a nearby village?"

Before she could respond, there was a knock at the door. Once again, Doc saw the look of fear in her eyes. But, of course, she had reason to be afraid. She was harboring two American soldiers.

The woman quickly ran to the baby and scooped him up. She handed him to the medic and then pushed the American into the bedroom as she drew the curtain closed.

Again there was knocking.

She scanned the room…the bloody clothes! She hastily emptied the water from the sink, put the jacket in with the shirt and covered both of them with an overturned pot. It was the best she could do, and hopefully, it couldn't be seen from the doorway.

As she opened the door a crack, Cpt. Bauer removed his hat.

[Frau Bazelaire, I am sorry to disturb you. We are looking for two dangerous men. Have you seen any strangers?]

[No, Captain. I have been inside all day and have seen no-one,] she calmly replied.

A soft moan followed by the sound of a fussing, crying baby came from the bedroom. Doc quickly put his hand over Saunders' mouth as he strained to listen. The woman was speaking German, and he feared she was going to turn them over to the Krauts.

[If there is nothing else, Captain, my baby is sick, and I must attend to him.]

[Would you like me to send one of our medical personnel to take a look at him?] the captain kindly asked.

The soldiers behind him exchanged glances and smirks. The captain had been acting like a love-sick puppy since the woman arrived in the village. His courtesy and kindness toward her had led the people of the town to label her as a 'collaborator horizontale' although in public she always acted cool and aloof in his presence. She had come to the village, the local gossips speculated, to reunite with her Boche lover, the father of her child, and she had said nothing to dispel that rumor.

[No…thank you. If he isn't better by morning, I will take him to Dr. Maugauge.]

[You shouldn't take him out if he is ill.] The captain turned to his soldiers. [Rupp, return to the village and tell Dr. Maugauge he is to visit Frau Bazelaire's sick child this evening.]

[Yes, Sir,] the private said. He immediately headed back toward the village at a trot.

[That was not necessary, Captain, but thank you.]

Bauer smiled at her. [I am happy to be of service.] He stayed in the doorway, weighing whether he should enter and have his men search the house, as he had all of the other buildings they had encountered.

She noted the captain's hesitation and knew that in another moment his soldiers might enter and find the Americans. [Well, if there is nothing else, I must see to the baby, and you have dangerous men to catch. Thank you again for sending for Dr. Maugauge,] she said, as cool and self-possessed as always.

With that, she stepped back and closed the door. She stood, scarcely breathing, and waited. When she heard them leave, she turned and leaned against the door, a slight smile on her face.

Doc remained motionless for a moment to make sure the Krauts were gone before removing his hand from the sergeant's mouth. Saunders was still unconscious. There was nothing more the medic could do for him; he needed a doctor, a hospital. Doc was sure he had heard the woman and the Kraut talk about a doctor. He opened the curtain enough to peek into the room. The woman was standing with her back against the door. He racked his brain trying to remember the name the German had called her…Frau…Frau Bazelaire. Yes, that was it. He slipped around the curtain and approached her.

"Ma'am…Mm. Bazelaire…"

She opened her eyes and snatched the baby from him.

"Mm. Bazelaire, merci for not telling the Krauts…er, the Boche about us. Ah think Ah heard you say something about a doctor…"

At that point, she could have responded in English. The American would have understood her initial hesitation. But, she decided it was best to maintain the ruse, so she answered in French, letting him assume she had understood the word 'doctor.'

[Dr. Maugauge will be coming this evening. He will think it is to see my baby, but perhaps he will tend your wounded comrade. He speaks some English, so you can talk to him. Now, leave me alone.]

She abruptly walked to the rocking chair and sat, cooing to her baby, trying to comfort him.

Doc watched her. She hadn't given them away, so that worry was gone. He chalked her brusque behavior up to fear, for herself and for the child. He wanted to say something to ease her mind, even if she couldn't understand.

He spoke softly, reassuringly, "Thank you…merci again. We'll leave as soon as the sergeant is able to travel."

As she continued to rock the baby, she glanced at the sewing basket and gave a small smile.

()()()()()()()()()()

It was only about a half mile to the village, so it didn't take Rupp long to arrive at the doctor's residence. Pvt. Rudy Stockhausen stepped out of the shadows to greet him.

[What are you doing here?] Rudy asked.

[The captain wants the doctor to see Frau Bazelaire's sick baby,] Rupp replied.

[That's not all he wants,] Stockhausen said with a knowing chuckle.

Rupp laughed. [Well, he'd better hurry up and make his move or one of us will!]

Rudy nodded as he thought about what Rupp had said. Maybe they had shown enough deference to Bauer. She was, after all, a good looking woman.

After Rupp delivered the message to Dr. Maugauge, the doctor begrudging grabbed his bag and set out for Mm. Bazelaire's house. Stockhausen quietly trailed behind.

()()()()()()()()()()

They reached the river, much to Porter's relief. Although the BAR man looked slight, helping to support his weight had tired the skinny soldier out. He was ready to take a rest, and to take security so he didn't have to continue listening to Kirby.

Before, he had thought the BAR man's whining and complaining was funny, but now he understood why the sergeant told him to 'shut up.' The entire way, Kirby had quietly grumbled and groused, right in his ear, about everything associated with this patrol, the one they had done the day before yesterday, and the war in general...everything, that is, except the whereabouts of the rest of the squad. As he eased the BAR man to the ground, Littlejohn came up to them.

"I'll take security." Porter eagerly offered.

Littlejohn handed him the BAR and then squatted beside Kirby to check the bandage. "You doing all right?" he asked.

"Yeah, it don't hurt too bad."

"Okay, I'm gonna check upstream and see if any of the rest of the squad are there."

A dejected Kirby quietly said, "Don't bother, Littlejohn. I had a bad feelin' 'bout this mission from the start. They ain't there so there's no use in lookin'. It's just us…"

Porter glanced back at the two soldiers and hissed. "How can you say that? Maybe they made it. All you've done is complain about everything an' now you go an' say a thing like that."

Littlejohn chuckled. "Don't let him get to you, Porter. It's just Kirby's way of…"

"Yeah, kid," the BAR man said. "Don't make a federal case outa it."

Porter looked from one to the other, shook his head and returned to watching their back trail. He scanned all around, although in his mind he was still trying to puzzle out his squad mates.

()()()()()()()()()()

Caje and Nelson stopped to rest. They had given a wide berth to the OPs the squad had found earlier and now were traveling in territory unfamiliar to them.

"How much further do you think?" Billy asked.

The Cajun took a moment to touch the lump on the back of his head. When he looked at his fingers, there was no blood this time. He checked the position of the sun to get his bearings. "I don't know, Billy, but de river should be dat way," he replied, gesturing as he spoke.

"Okay; you ready?"

The scout nodded and they set off again, moving slowly and cautiously.

After a while, Billy again wanted to ask the Cajun, "How much further?" but he didn't want to sound like Kirby. Consequently, the question went unasked. He also wanted to ask about their squad mates, but he knew Caje wouldn't speculate. Therefore, he had to keep all of his concerns to himself. All he could do was concentrate on watching for Krauts and hope the rest of the men were waiting at the river.

Then, suddenly, up ahead, he thought he heard someone talking. He looked at Caje and the scout signaled him to move off to the right. After several moments of carefully inching their way forward, they stopped, looked at each other and grinned. Kirby was carrying on about something. They listened to Porter and couldn't help but chuckle. The BAR man just had a way of eventually irritating everyone.

()()()()()()()()()()

Doc thought Mm. Bazelaire's face was placid, even haughty, when the expected knock on the door came about an hour later. She again quickly scanned the room. She had finished rinsing out the bloody clothes and they were hanging in the bedroom drying. The medic took the baby and pulled the curtain closed behind him as she went to the door.

[Who is it?] she asked.

[Dr. Maugauge.] He wanted her to know that this visit was not his idea, so he added, [The Boche captain gave an order for me to come and check on Philip.]

She opened the door and he entered. After she had closed it, she said, [Philip is fine.]

[Then why…?]

The medic stepped from behind the curtain.

The doctor stared at him and then cautiously asked, "American?"

"Yes. Do you speak English?"

"I speak a little," the doctor replied as he looked at the woman.

"Good." Doc opened the curtain. "My sergeant was hit in the shoulder. Ah got the bleeding stopped and gave him a shot of morphine about two hours ago."

Dr. Maugauge's gaze shifted from the medic to the wounded man and back to the woman. He hadn't expected this from her, of all people.

"I will do what I can," he replied as he walked into the bedroom.

()()()()()()()()()()

The reunion was briefly happy, but then Porter asked about Allen.

Caje gave a terse response. "He didn't make it."

"What about the Sarge and Doc?" Littlejohn asked.

"We haven't seen them," Billy replied. He looked at his comrades. "Do you think a couple of us should go back and look for them?"

Porter waited for one of the other men to speak, but when nobody did, he asked, "How would we know where to look?"

After a few grim head shakes, Caje crossed the river and made sure there would be no unwelcome surprises waiting for them on the other side. Then Littlejohn stepped into the water, carrying Kirby. Nelson and Porter provided cover as the big man slowly and carefully made his way across; with the BAR man providing unnecessary but predictable step by step instructions

Once everyone was safely across, Littlejohn and Billy set to work building a litter. When they finished, the remains of First Squad began a silent walk home.

()()()()()()()()()()

Another of the medic's worries was lifted. Dr. Maugauge had removed the slug from Saunders' shoulder and sutured and dressed the wound. The sergeant was sleeping peacefully. Now the medic needed to find out where they were and how they were going to make it back to the American lines.

[He will be fine, but he needs to rest,] the doctor said to Mm. Bazelaire.

[Alright, he can rest tonight, but they must leave in the morning. If the Boche come back and search…] she replied.

[Yes, of course.] He turned to Doc. "You cannot stay here. If the Boche return and find you, it will go badly for Mm. Bazelaire."

"Ah understand. How far are we from the American lines?"

Maugauge shook his head. "Dat I do not know. De village of Verquois is but a kilometer from here and it is still controlled by de Boche."

"We waded across a river," Doc said, trying to provide a landmark.

"Ah, de river is five kilometers from Verquois, but de Boche they destroy de bridges. Dere is, I dink, only one left."

The medic pondered the information the doctor had provided. If they followed the road, it was about three miles to the river. While cross-country might be shorter, it would also be more difficult. But, it really didn't matter; he was sure Saunders wouldn't be able to travel for several days.

[Will they leave tomorrow?] the woman asked impatiently.

The doctor needed time to think. The wounded American would have to rest for a few days to regain a bit of strength. Perhaps there was a cellar or a barn where they could hide. But, who in the village or countryside could he trust to not turn the men over to the Boche and, equally important, to not let slip their presence while visiting the local café.

[I shall return tomorrow morning and move them. Until then, Mm. Bazelaire, they must remain here.] Maugauge smiled reassuringly at her. [Don't worry, it will be alright. Will you fix some soup for the wounded man when he awakens?]

The woman nodded her reluctant agreement.

Maugauge turned to the medic. "In de morning I return and take you and de sergeant to a more safe location."

"Thank you, Doctor, and would you tell Mm. Bazelaire that Ah'm sorry for the trouble we're causing her."

The doctor nodded and, after a brief conversation with the woman and a final check on his patient, he left.

Outside, Pvt. Rudy Stockhausen watched the doctor start back down the road to the village. He decided to wait to make sure Maugauge hadn't forgotten something that would cause him to return.

()()()()()()()()()()

"You're sure of these locations?" Lt. Leonard asked.

"Yes, Sir," the Cajun replied. "Dose are de five we found. Sgt. Saunders marked dem on his map…" He stopped and looked at Leonard. "Lieutenant, when are we going to move forward?"

"I don' know, Private. There's still fighting to the south so we're stretched pretty thin right now. I'll call this information into company HQ. Cpt. Jampel might want to send out another reconnaissance patrol in the morning."

"We'll be ready, Sir."

()()()()()()()()()()

Doc played with the baby while the woman began making soup for Saunders and for their supper. She went into the cellar and returned with a few vegetables. Once they were washed, chopped up and simmering, she set the table for two.

All at once, there was a loud and persistent banging on the door. This time the medic saw the look of fear on her face as he picked up the baby and hurriedly retreated into the bedroom, pulling the curtain closed.

She opened the door a crack, but the Boche soldier on the other side immediately put his shoulder against it, pushing it all the way open as he stepped inside. He leaned his rifle against the wall.

[What do you want? Does Cpt. Bauer know you are here?] she demanded.

The soldier smiled as he looked around the room. [The captain is busy elsewhere…Ah, I see you were expecting the doctor to stay for supper. Well, I shall be happy to join you. Shall we start with a little appetizer or go right to dessert?]

[If you leave now, I will not say anything to Cpt. Bauer,] she said as she backed away. Panic was creeping into her voice although she tried to keep it steady. Her mind was racing, coming up with and discarding options. One thing was certain. Whether or not she got away from this soldier with her honor intact, he would pay dearly for this outrage.

Doc listened behind the curtain. He didn't understand the words, but he could hear the tension in her voice. This was not the same Kraut who had come before, nor did it sound like a courteous conversation. She was afraid of something. He put the baby on the floor and went to the chair, looking for Saunders' side arm. But, the holster was empty.

'The pistol must have fallen out when we were crawling away,' he thought.

Stockhausen grabbed her arm and pulled her toward him. He smiled and said, [You're not going to say anything to the captain.]

What the soldier meant suddenly dawned on her. He was going to kill her when he was through. This was no longer just a fight for her honor; it was a fight for her life. She struggled to get away, but he spun her around and pinned her against the door, laughing as he forced a slobbery kiss onto her lips.

The medic clamped his hand on the Kraut's shoulder, turned him and then punched him in the face. The soldier was momentarily stunned by the surprise attack, but quickly shook off the blow. He swung at the American, but missed as Doc took a step backward. However, the Kraut's next punch landed solidly, sending the medic to the floor.

Once released, the woman quickly moved away from the two men.

For a moment, the German stood over the downed American, his hands balled into fists. But, he changed his mind and stepped back, turned and reached for his rifle.

With only a few rapid steps she had reached the little table. Her hands found the sewing basket…the lid…the pistol. She held it in front of her. She knew how to fire the weapon. Her father had taught her to shoot at targets when she was a girl.

The soldier picked up his rifle and began lifting and pointing it at the medic.

She pulled the trigger.

The baby wailed, shrieking at the sound of the sudden loud noise.

The Kraut slowly lowered his rifle. He turned to face the woman as the weapon slipped from his hands. He took a staggering step toward her.

She calmly pulled the trigger again.

Pvt. Rudy Stockhausen reached out as he fell forward, dead at her feet. She lowered her arms and set the pistol on the table.

Doc got up and went to her.

Thinking, 'How should I react? How would he expect me to react?' she quickly went over a few possible responses to what had just happened.

He held her as she whimpered, trembling in his arms. He tried to comfort her, speaking softly, as he had done many times before to scared young soldiers, until finally the shaking passed.

Still sniffling but composed, she softly said, "Merci," as she looked up into his kind eyes.

The tender moment was broken by the reality of the situation when Saunders said, "Doc, you need to get that body out of here."

They were both startled and turned to see the sergeant, looking weak as he leaned against the bedroom archway.

Mm. Bazelaire pulled away from the medic and retrieved her baby. She sat with him in the rocking chair. As the medic helped him back to the bed, Saunders told Doc to get his pistol. But, when he returned to the main room, the weapon had disappeared. He looked at her, but she didn't return his gaze. All of her attention was focused on the baby.

'Later,' Doc thought. 'I'll look for it later after she's had a chance to calm down.'

The medic dragged the Kraut out the open door and around the side of the house. He searched in the shed beside the garden and found a shovel. Even as he dug the grave he knew it would quickly be discovered by anyone searching the property for the missing soldier. He debated whether to bury the rifle with the body since Saunders was in no condition to use it. In the end, he took the extra cartridges off the corpse before shoveling dirt over it. He had tried to defend her once and he knew that if he had to, he would do it again.

When the medic finally returned to the house, closing the door behind him for the last time, he found the woman on her hands and knees, attempting to wash the blood stain out of the wooden floor. He knelt in front of her, gently took her hands and pulled her up.

Doc shook his head 'no' as he said, "It won't do any good. The Krauts…er, Boche will find the body. You can't stay here. You must leave when we do in the morning." He didn't know what Dr. Maugauge's plan would be, but now it would have to accommodate the woman and her baby.

()()()()()()()()()()

It had sounded so simple when Cpt. Jampel first laid out the plan. The last bridge within ten miles in either direction needed to be secured before the Krauts destroyed it, as they had all the others. Artillery would blast the Germans on the far side of the river so no reinforcements could be brought up. First Platoon would take out the defenders on the near side, allowing Second Platoon to rush across and capture the other side of the bridge. In the meantime, Third Platoon would have waded across the river and, as the artillery opened up, they would attack the outposts Second Platoon's First Squad had located earlier in the day.

Now, as Lt. Leonard met with his NCOs, he tried to sound confident as he presented the platoon's role in the plan.

"Sir, suppose the Krauts already have the charges in place?" Sgt. McCray, the leader of Second Squad asked. He didn't say what was really bothering him, that the Krauts would wait until Second Platoon was on the bridge before demolishing it.

After Leonard had listened to Cpt. Jampel outline the plan and then thought about it, he had actually had the same concern. And, like his NCOs, he hadn't said anything to his superior, so he could only repeat what he had been told. "Unless they blow the bridge when the artillery opens up, a demolition team from battalion will inspect it as soon as we've secured it."

McCray and Brockmeyer, who would be leading Third Squad, exchanged glances.

"How long do we have to hold it, Sir?" the corporal asked.

That, Leonard had learned at his briefing with the other platoon leaders, was the big 'Which comes first, the chicken or the egg?' question.

Battalion wanted the bridge but because of the ongoing battle between the Krauts and Baker and Charlie Companies, they didn't want to commit to moving the armor up until it was secure. If King Company could hold it for twenty-four hours, it would give them time to get the armor into position. But, it would be difficult for the company to maintain control without tank support if the Krauts were determined to retake the bridge. After all, artillery barrages worked both ways and the Germans wouldn't have to be careful about not hitting it.

"Twenty-four hours." But, seeing the shocked looks on the NCOs' faces, he quickly added, "Third Platoon's attack on the outposts should distract the Krauts and cause them to pull back to the village of Verquois."

Again, the NCOs looked at each other and shook their heads. They hadn't believed it any more than Leonard had after he had had a chance to think about Cpt. Jampel's response to the same question.

'If only Lt. Hanley or Saunders were here…' both men thought.

"If there's nothing else, be ready to move out at 0600."

Once the meeting broke up, the lieutenant walked over to where First Squad was billeted. He briefed the four remaining squad members, who, without Kirby to complain about every detail, listened in stunned silence as he outlined the mission.

()()()()()()()()()()

Doc started going through the bureau drawers, pulling out her and the baby's clothing. She recognized what was happening. It was not the first time a man had frantically tried to pack her meager belongings. So, she went down to the cellar and returned with a worn valise. But, because of the baby, leaving would be more difficult this time.

Then they waited.

Saunders and the baby might have slept, but Doc certainly didn't. The Kraut's rifle was laying across his lap and, at every noise, he jumped up from the kitchen table and peeked out the window over the sink. Meanwhile, the woman sat in the rocking chair, softly singing to the sleeping infant.

Finally, when Doc jumped up, it was because a car rolled to a stop in front of the house. The medic opened the door a crack. Both he and the woman looked out and then breathed sighs of relief when Dr. Maugauge emerged from the vehicle. He looked around and then walked rapidly toward the house, carrying a small bundle. Once inside, he wasted no time.

"Quickly, wake de sergeant, and I tell to you de plan," he said to the medic.

The two men entered the bedroom and found Saunders already awake. As the doctor leaned over to examine his patient, he explained the arrangements he had made.

"Dere is a farmer about dree kilometers beyond Verquois. He hide you for a few days. Here," he handed Doc the bundle, "put on dis jacket, hat and glasses. You will be Louis, my driver. De sergeant we hide on de floor in back and cover wid a blanket. Now hurry."

"The farm is further from the river than the village?" Saunders asked.

"Yes, but it is safe," Maugauge responded.

The Americans looked at each other. Neither was happy to be moving away from, not closer to their own lines. But, they also knew they had no choice. Saunders nodded.

"Alright," Doc said, "but the woman, Mm. Bazelaire, and her baby come too."

"NON!" the doctor yelled as he straightened up. "No, dat is not possible. She stay here."

"She can't stay here. A German soldier came last night. We had to kill him," the medic replied.

Maugauge took a step back, his face suddenly pale with fright. "Was it de Boche captain?"

"No, but they'll come looking for the soldier eventually, and they'll find him buried in the garden."

The doctor shook his head. "Still, de farmer he not take her. All de people think she is collaborator."

"Well, she's not," Doc said emphatically. "If she were, she would've turned us over to the Krauts yesterday when she had the chance." Then he added, "She goes with us!"

Maugauge looked down at the sergeant to appeal to him, but Saunders only repeated what the medic had said, "She goes with us."

Mm. Bazelaire stepped into the archway. [How do you plan to move the Americans?] she asked although she already knew the answer, having listened to what Maugauge told the soldiers.

The doctor explained his plan. But, then added, [The Americans want you to go with them, but the farmer won't agree to that. The baby's crying…]

She looked at him. [I understand,] she said, knowing the real reason. She knew she was trapped. She still had the pistol, so she could force the doctor to take her away from Verquois. But to where? No, there was only one place she would be safe.

She had known it might come to this. So all through the night she had considered and discarded various ideas until finally the solution had come to her. It was brazen, but the more she thought about it, the more convinced she became that she could pull it off.

[You tell the Americans he,] she pointed to Doc, [will drive and he,] she pointed to Saunders, [will be on the floor, hidden, as you said. I will sit in the front seat with Philip. You will sit in the back. We will go to Verquois where you will tell Cpt. Bauer that Philip is very sick and must go to the hospital at Falaise, behind the American lines.]

Maugauge opened his mouth to respond, but no words would come out so he could only stare at her in disbelief. Finally, he managed to say, [The Boche captain will never agree to that. He has not let any civilians cross the bridge.]

[He will let me. Tell them!] she ordered.

The doctor relayed Mm. Bazelaire's plan, along with his own doubts to the medic and the sergeant.

"She's not telling us everything," Saunders said. "Ask her if the Kraut captain is the baby's father, and if so, why she thinks he will let her cross the bridge with his son. And if not, why would he agree?"

The doctor and the woman had a back and forth conversation, which Maugauge summarized for the waiting Americans.

"Mm. Bazelaire say de baby's father is her husband, Philip Bazelaire. He fight in de resistance and de Boche kill him before his son is born. She arrested, but de captain take pity and help her to come here. She is certain he help her again. She does not say why she believe dis, only dat she is certain.

"Monsieurs, it is late and you must decide. But, I tell you to leave her. If she is certain de Boche captain help as he did before, den why she not stay?"

Saunders considered what the doctor had said. It was a convincing argument, except for the dead Kraut buried in the garden. Overlooking the actions of her husband for the sake of a woman he was in love with was one thing, but now one of his soldiers had been killed.

The medic thought back to the previous night, how scared she had been. "Sarge, if she thought the captain could protect her, she wouldn't be so anxious to leave."

Saunders nodded in agreement.

Reluctantly, Maugauge gave in.

Doc dressed in the clothing the doctor had brought and then he helped Saunders get settled on the floor of the back seat of the doctor's car.

"Sarge, this might be an uncomfortable ride. Do you want a shot of morphine?" he asked.

"No. Just watch out for the pot holes and bumps," Saunders replied as he mentally prepared himself for the trip ahead. He might not be of much help to the medic, but if something went wrong, he at least needed to be conscious.

The medic covered him with the blanket then got behind the wheel. Once everyone was seated, he started the car. The woman, holding the sleeping baby, looked straight ahead as they began the drive to Verquois.

()()()()()()()()()()

Leonard, McCray and Brockmeyer synchronized their watches. The artillery was set to open up at 0800. Third Platoon had already radioed they were in position. First Platoon had moved up in preparation for their attack on the dug-in defenders on the near side of the bridge. Now, it was a waiting game as the minutes slowly ticked away.

()()()()()()()()()()

Doc stopped the car in front of the Kraut command post. He pulled the hat a little further down on his forehead and pushed the glasses up on his nose as he slouched behind the wheel, trying to make himself as small and inconspicuous as possible.

Dr. Maugauge took a deep breath and ran his tongue over his dry lips before he got out of the car. Then he walked slowly toward the guards. After a brief exchange with one of them and a quick look back at the occupants of the front seat, he entered the building.

They had waited only a few minutes when, suddenly, the baby began to scream. The infant was not whimpering and fussing, but shrieking at the top of his lungs. By the time the doctor returned with the captain, his face was red and his little arms were thrashing about. Nothing Mm. Bazelaire did seemed to calm him down.

Although surprised, the doctor continued talking to the Kraut officer in French. [As you see, Captain, the baby is quite distressed. He needs immediate medical attention, the type of care which I cannot provide.]

Bauer looked at the baby, wriggling in his mother's arms, but appeared unmoved. [I am sure there are hospitals to the east that can take care of him.]

[But Falaise is closer.]

[Falaise is behind the American lines.]

The woman, who up to that point had said nothing, suddenly opened the car door and swung her legs out. The two men watched as she stood. She thrust the crying infant at the doctor and then turned to the Kraut officer, speaking to him in German.

[Frederick, please. Let me take the baby to the hospital at Falaise.]

[Eva, you ask too much of me. And, how can I protect you if you go to Falaise?]

She slowly shook her head. [You cannot protect me here, and you know it. The Americans will push you back and I will be left in this village where everyone thinks I am a collaborator. What is to become of me…of Philip?]

[If we must retreat, I will take you with me. My soldiers...]

[Your soldiers!...YOUR SOLDIERS!...One of them came to the house last night and attacked me…]

[WHAT! Tell me who. I will...]

[Frederick…I killed him. He is buried in the garden…I had to…So you see, I cannot stay. You cannot let that go unpunished…] She reached up and softly brushed his cheek. [Please, I know you have done so much for me already, but I must ask this one last thing…If you love me, let me take Philip…our child…your son…and go to Falaise. You must let me save him.]

Cpt. Bauer closed his eyes as the episodes of his life with Eva flashed through his mind. After a moment, he switched to French to address the doctor. [Who is that driving the car?] he asked as he pointed to the medic.

Maugauge blanched. [It…it is Louis. You have seen him before. He..he often drives for me.]

For what seemed like an eternity, everyone remained motionless as Bauer continued to stare at the driver.

'Oh God, he knows,' the doctor thought. 'He has been here over six months and he knows every man, woman and child in the village and the surrounding countryside.'

Meanwhile, Bauer was running through her story in his head. 'She could have used a knife to kill one of my men, or even his rifle if he was careless. But, she could never have moved the body to the garden and buried it without assistance. So, that American helped her…protected her…and now she is helping him. This, too, could not go unpunished.'

He sighed and smiled at her, then took the hand that had caressed his cheek and kissed it. [I have never been able to say 'no' to you, not since we were little children. And, you are right, you cannot stay here now. Go to Falaise and remain there. Get my son the care he needs.]

[And you?]

[I shall remain here and do my duty.]

[You could come…]

The captain slowly shook his head before turning once again to address Maugauge.

[Well, Herr Doctor, if he is driving, there is no need for you to go. You will stay and tend to your other patients. Mm. Bazelaire, please get in the car with your child.]

Once Maugauge handed the baby back to his mother, he walked around to the driver's window while she was getting settled in the car. He bent over and, in a low voice, said, "Follow dis road out of town. At de fork, go left."

Unexpectedly, the captain motioned for the woman to slide over. He got in, sitting in the front seat beside her. No-one said a word as Doc started the engine and drove slowly out of town. At a check-point, the officer signaled the sentries and the barricade was lifted.

The medic kept his eyes straight ahead as he continued driving, bearing to the left when the road forked. He slowed the car as they approached the bridge and then stopped. He cautiously looked to the left and right, noting how well protected it was.

Bauer got out and began shouting orders. The soldiers sprang into action, loading the machine guns and crates of ammunition into a near-by transport truck before clearing a path for the car. Finally, they climbed into the truck and it and a half-track that had been sitting beside the bridge headed back toward the village. In the meantime, the captain had radioed his troops on the other side of the river.

()()()()()()()()()()

Leonard checked his watch. It was 0750. He raised his binoculars once again, and couldn't believe what he was seeing. The Krauts on their side of the river were hastily packing up their weapons and ammo. The half-track that had blocked the end of the bridge had already turned around and started across. When he scanned the far side, similar activity was taking place. He got on the handy-talkie to Morgan, the First Platoon lieutenant.

"Morgan, I think they're getting ready to blow it up."

"Yeah, I agree. I radioed the captain an' he said to sit tight."

()()()()()()()()()()

When the access to the bridge was clear, the Kraut officer walked around the front of the doctor's vehicle to the driver's window. He leaned over and said, "Drive slowly…and take good care of her."

Doc turned to look at him. "Ah will," was all he said before starting the car. He began the drive across the bridge at a snail's pace.

They met the half-track and then a transport truck full of Krauts. Other soldiers were hurriedly crossing on foot.

At 0800 the American artillery barrage began. It caught some of the soldiers on their way to Verquois, but the intended target had never been the Krauts stationed at either end of the span lest a shell inadvertently hit the bridge.

Doc, however, knew the infantry would be following after the artillery and he didn't want to get caught in the ensuing battle. He pressed on the gas pedal. The car leaped forward and covered the last quarter of the span at a faster rate of speed than Louis had every driven it.

()()()()()()()()()()

Cpt. Bauer watched the car as it crept across the bridge. When the American artillery barrage began, he remained where he was, his eyes glued on the vehicle as it sped up and made it past the outpost his troops had just abandoned. Everyone in his command was off the bridge.

[NOW!] he ordered and walked away.

()()()()()()()()()()

Lt. Leonard had had his binoculars fastened on the civilian car. It had just quickly covered about a hundred yards when the sound of rolling thunder seemed to be heading their way. He turned to see what was happening, but the smoke and debris totally blocked the view. He knew, however, that when the dust settled, the bridge would be gone.

The handy-talkie crackled. Morgan had informed Cpt. Jampel of the destruction of the bridge and now he was relaying the order to fall back. Second Platoon was to cover First Platoon's retreat. Once they were safely away, Leonard ordered Second and Third Squads to return to their billet.

"Man-oh-man, that was close!" Porter said. "We coulda been on that thing when they blew it!"

"You said it," Billy agreed. "I wonder why they picked this moment to clear out?"

"I'll bet it has something to do with that car." Littlejohn responded. "What do you think, Lieutenant?"

"I don't know, but we'll soon find out," Leonard said as they watched the mysterious car continue coming down the road toward them. It stopped when Caje and Littlejohn stepped out from behind cover and pointed their rifles at it.

The driver's door slowly opened and a man emerged with his hands raised. When he lifted his hat, there was no mistaking the medic's grinning face.

"Hey! IT'S DOC!" Billy cried. "Look, Lieutenant, it's Doc!"

"We're glad to see you. Are you okay?" the ever-concerned Leonard asked.

"Yes, Sir, Ah'm fine. That artillery was a little too close for comfort, but we're all fine."

"Good. Where's Sgt. Saunders?"

"He's on the floor in the back," the medic responded. The rear doors were immediately flung open. "Now, y'all be careful! He was hit in the shoulder. Don't you go man-handling him."

The sergeant was wedged in tightly between the two seats, but it took only a few moments to extract him. Once he was settled on the back seat, Saunders closed his eyes as he took a couple of deep breaths. Doc pushed past Billy so he could climb into the car beside the NCO.

"You okay, Sarge? Do you want that shot of morphine now?" the medic asked.

"No, Doc, I'm good," the sergeant replied.

"He looks a little pale, don't you think?" Billy said as he leaned over the medic.

Littlejohn, who had one knee on the driver's seat and was looming over the back of the front seat, said, "Maybe he's car sick. My cousin Mathew gets car sick every time he rides in the back."

"I'm not car sick. I'm just…sick of the car," the NCO replied with a sigh.

The lieutenant, leaning in on the other side of the sergeant, said, "Alright, get a litter ready."

Saunders just wanted a few moments to deal with the pain in his shoulder the jostling had caused. He growled, "I don't need a God-damn litter. Just…" He opened his eyes to see everyone, including Leonard, hovering around him. He gave a weak smile. "Sorry, Lieutenant."

In the front seat the woman, who up to that point had remained silent as the car was invaded by the Americans, now spoke. [Perhaps the sergeant would be more comfortable riding in the front seat.]

Once Caje had translated her statement, there was a small flurry of activity as she was helped from the car and introductions were made. The lieutenant told Caje to ride in the back with her and the sergeant was moved to the front. He leaned against the door and again closed his eyes as Doc started the engine and they got underway. This time there were two destinations, the aid station and S-2. Lt. Leonard was sure they would want to talk to Mm. Bazelaire.

Ever since she had proposed their escape scheme, Doc had been trying to figure out how to learn the woman's current relationship with the Kraut officer. He had planned on having the doctor ask her, but now the Cajun would have to find out for him. And, ordinarily Caje would have been happy to talk to a pretty woman, but he found the baby she was holding and the possibility she was a collaborator to be more than a little disconcerting.

[Mm. Bazelaire, what is your relationship with the Boche captain?], he bluntly asked, expecting either a 'we are just friends,' or 'I don't know what you mean' response.

She looked at the Cajun and gave just the hint of a smile. The scout could see why Doc wanted the answer to that particular question.

[Why do you want to know?] she responded, perhaps a little too coyly.

[I don't…I'm sure our intelligence officers will be interested, but right now, it's Doc,] he nodded toward the medic, [who asked the question.]

[Of course. Cpt. Bauer…Frederick…is my brother. Our father was a German soldier during the Great War. He was wounded and captured. Our mother, a nurse, took care of him. They fell in love, and after the war, married and settled here in France. But, there was always prejudice against him. Eventually, he returned to Germany taking Frederick with him. I was only twelve at the time.

[We did not see each other again until he knocked on my door to tell me my husband was dead and I was under arrest. Somehow, he got me released and arranged for Philip and me to join him in Verquois.]

Caje relayed the information to the medic who was doubly relieved; first because the Kraut wasn't her lover and second because…well because he had been head over heels in love with her since the first moment he laid eyes on her.

However, Saunders hadn't spent any time gazing into her eyes, longingly or otherwise and so hadn't fallen under her spell. He listened carefully to her response, then said, "Something's not right…"

Caje, who was looking at her, saw a look of anger flash across her face. It was just for an instant, but he realized she understood what the sergeant had just said. She might not speak English very well, but she understood it, and therefore he couldn't warn his comrades.

Saunders continued, "…Why didn't she tell us this when we asked her about him earlier?"

The woman waited for the Cajun to translate the question before responding angrily, [And if I had told you he was my brother, would you have agreed to the plan? No! You would have left me and Philip there. I could not take that chance.]

When Caje relayed her response, Doc nodded eagerly in agreement. "She's right, Sarge. We wouldn't have trusted her. She was scared, just like when we forced our way into her house and when that soldier attacked her last night. She couldn't stay there after that."

"Alright," the sergeant begrudgingly agreed. "But she'll still have to tell her story to S-2."

They drove the rest of the way in silence. After dropping Saunders off at the aid station, the others continued on to the tent where an S-2 unit was located. Just before Doc brought the car to a complete stop, Philip once again began to scream and cry. Doc and Caje ushered her and the baby inside where the medic reported what had happened and how Mm. Bazelaire had helped him and the sergeant. Then he and Caje returned to the car to await the conclusion of her interview.

It wasn't long before she reappeared, escorted by a very solicitous captain.

"She's free to continue on to Falaise. Here's a requisition. Fill up the car with gas and give her a full Jerry can," he said to Doc and Caje. The captain turned to the woman. [Good luck, Mm. Bazelaire, and I hope your baby is feeling better very soon.]

[Thank you. You have been most kind,] she replied, giving the officer a warm smile.

Once they had procured the gasoline for the car, Doc asked Caje how much money he had on him. The Cajun searched his pockets and produced a few hundred Francs. The medic combined that with the money he had and gave it to the woman.

"Caje, ask her if she's going to be all right driving to Falaise by herself. Tell her Ah might be able to get a pass and help her get settled."

Mm. Bazelaire waited for the translation and then reached up and softly brushed the medic's cheek, the same way she had the Kraut captain's.

[You are very sweet, but Philip and I will be fine,] she said.

With that, she laid the baby on the front seat, climbed behind the wheel, and drove away.

Doc stood looking down the road long after the car had disappeared.

After she had driven about a mile, Mm. Bazelaire pulled over to the side of the road and stopped the car. She put her hand in her jacket pocket and pulled out the open safety pin. [Well, Philip, we can put this away, at least for a while,] she said as she closed the pin.

Next, she opened the valise and pulled out the pistol. [Momma's going to wrap this up in your blanket so it's handy, just in case she needs it.]

When she was finished, she started the car. Before pulling back onto the road, she glanced over at the baby and said, [After all, there are two things in this world men don't like, screaming babies and messy diapers.] Then she smiled. [Once we reach Falaise, I think I shall find someone a bit older and widowed…a British colonel would be nice. And, as for you, we shall see if my colonel needs a son. What do you think of that idea, Philip?]

()()()()()()()()()()

Although it was only early evening, Dr. Maugauge had fallen asleep in his easy chair while reading. The loud knocking at the door awakened him. He looked at his watch and then yelled, [I'M COMING, I'M COMING,] but the pounding continued. When he opened the door, he was face-to-face with three Boche soldiers.

[Cpt. Bauer requests your presence, NOW!] one of them said.

Maugauge knew it wasn't a request but an order. He reached for his hat and, out of habit, picked up the black medical bag he kept beside the door. One soldier led the way while the other two walked on either side of him to the captain's headquarters at the other end of the village.

The German officer was seated behind his desk when the doctor arrived. The soldier who had led the way closed the door, leaving the two men alone.

[Ah, Herr Doctor, so good of you to come. Will you join me?] the captain asked as he poured a glass of cognac and offered it to Maugauge. Bauer was slurring his words and was already quite drunk; an empty bottle sat on the desk and the captain had poured from a second one that was only half full.

The doctor hesitated before taking the glass. He knew he had to be very careful not to do anything to upset the Boche captain. It had been his experience that drunks, whether French or German, could be quite unpredictable in their responses.

Bauer smiled. [What shall we drink to?]

[I don't know,] Maugauge replied guardedly.

[Well, perhaps we should drink to Mm. Bazelaire and her successful journey to join the Americans? You will not see her or your car again, but perhaps _Louis _will reappear in a day or two.]

The Frenchman didn't respond. He, like all of the civilians in the village, had heard the loud explosion earlier in the day and had assumed the Boche had destroyed the bridge. Now he knew that the woman and the Americans had made it safely across beforehand.

[She is a most…interesting woman. Wouldn't you agree? I have known her since I was a child. Even then, she could bewitch me and make me do whatever she wanted. I remember she always asked me to steal pastries for her.] He shook his head. [And, it always ended the same. She ate the pastries and I was thrashed.] He continued to shake his head. [It was always the same.]

The doctor tried to think of something to say in response. He settled for, [So you grew up in the same village?]

[Yes, the same village in Germany. We were neighbors…until she was suddenly sent to live with relatives across the border in France when we were about twelve.] He emptied his glass and poured another. [I didn't see her again for years…forgot all about her, I thought. But, one day, there she was, standing before my desk just as you are now. At the time, I didn't think she recognized me, but later I realized she must have seen me on the street and remembered me.]

Bauer got up and staggered over to the window. He stood there, swaying slightly, looking out for a long time. Suddenly, he turned. [Do you know why she came to see me that day?]

[No,] Maugauge replied.

[To betray her husband, Philip Bazelaire. She said he was the leader of the resistance in my sector…] The captain threw his head back and laughed. [Don't you see, she was still the same.]

The doctor, puzzled, asked, [And was he?]

The captain gave a wry smile. [Once the SS finished questioning him, he was the leader of all opposition in France!]

He turned back to gaze out the window. Again, the two men stood in silence for a long time before Bauer finally said, [He got his thrashing and then I got mine…]

The doctor's mouth dropped open, but before he could say anything, Bauer continued. [When my unit was transferred here I thought I was shed of her…But three months ago she showed up… She claimed the baby was mine. The baby she named after her dead husband! Do you know what I think?]

[No,] Maugauge again cautiously replied.

[I don't even think it's hers! He's just some orphan or a baby she stole to better manipulate me…as if she needed something more.] He drank down the glass of cognac. [But now, I am finally rid of her and she is the Americans' problem.]

[Captain, perhaps you should lie down and get some rest,] the doctor said.

[Sleep…and dream…_of her_?] Bauer laughed again. [No, Herr Doctor, I must do my duty. Please close the door behind you when you go.]

Dr. Maugauge left Cpt. Bauer standing at the window. He was more than happy to leave the room and the Boche command post. As he hurried down the street toward his home, he heard a single gunshot. He picked up his pace as German soldiers rushed by him. However, he couldn't help but think of what the captain had said, "It always ended the same. She ate the pastries and I was thrashed."

()()()()()()()()()()

Doc sat in the squad's billet, thinking about Mm. Bazelaire. His cheek still burned where she had touched it.

'I was right,' he thought. 'There's nothing wholesome about you.'

Caje had been watching the medic. Out of the blue he said, "Dat woman. I dink you're lucky, mon ami. I dink you dodged a bullet."

Doc made no reply as he absentmindedly brushed his cheek.

()()()()()()()()()()

()()()()()()()()()()


End file.
